


From The Start

by Measured



Category: Radiant Historia
Genre: Beginnings, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning of a friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moontyger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/gifts).



> Assumes characters had some spells/skills they wouldn't have at that level for artistic license.

Sweat slicked down her back as she thrust the spear over and over into the straw dummy. Her dress was stained from blood from an earlier exercise, but all the men had gone down for a drink. She'd kept it up, even though her arms were burning. She'd fallen down due to a sleep spell the last mission, and even if no one had directly blamed her, she was working twice as hard now to make up for the failure.

A voice rose over the sound of her spear hitting the dented tin of the straw dummy's breastplate. 

"Hey, that's pretty good. You look tired, though."

He was small, with a soft rabbit face, and there was no hint of a suggestion in his voice. She brushed the back of her arm across her forehead and left it dirtier than before. 

"Thanks."

"The matron sent me here—Did you eat yet?" he said.

Still, no hint of intent, or flirting. She'd seen him in other mercenary groups, though she still hadn't known much more than he had some healing abilities, and could fight with a sword. Somehow, they'd never been assigned together. 

"No, I think I'll do some more reps," she replied.

She couldn't let herself fall behind. This group had been kind to her, though the last one she'd traveled with had a few rowdier ones who had to get a feel of her fists so they'd stop reaching out and trying to cop a feel.

Marco sat with his lunch on his lap, a bag beside him. He looked far younger than his actual age. Or, to be more precise, he looked like a young rabbit boy. Had he ever been bullied for looking like one of the beastkind? She wondered, but didn't speak up to ask.

"The matron says you have to stop to eat, or you'll be having to answer to her," he said.

She looked back. His helmet had fallen over his innocent eyes, his bangs were too long again. The matron would be clucking her tongue at him, moving him into the chair to get his monthly haircut again. She fussed over all of them, but Marco got fussed over the most—perhaps because he didn't mind it.

For how many of the mercenaries didn't have mothers, the matron's caring was a welcome sense of a home they never, or no longer had.

She let out a sigh. One-hundred reps was pretty good. He sat beside him, the lunch balanced on her knees. The matron was a good cook, and a good fighter, too. Though she mostly oversaw the training, these days, with her last arm injury. She was a fearsome one, who'd glare down any of the mercenaries who got rowdy with her one good eye, the scar across her face cut by a black patch over the other one.

She didn't remember her mother very well, but she liked to think she would've been like the matron, had she lived.

"They're readying for another mission tonight, it seems like it might be a dangerous one," Marco said. "Are you going on this one, or did the matron keep you back?"

"Probably," she said.

Sometimes she saw mercenaries who drifted together. Usually they were lovers or the remains of a family. Siblings and cousins, sons and fathers, daughters and mothers. She'd seen all the scattered parts around here, to say nothing of brothers without blood, bonds forged with steel and lives almost lost.

She'd never found anyone like that, though. She'd taken some lovers, though nothing permanent. The mercenary life was drifting, trying to find that last bit of green as the war waged on between Granorg and Alistel. At least, it provided a lot of work, so she never went hungry.

"Do you have anyone?" she said abruptly. "—a family, I mean."

He shook his head. "There's one girl...well, not family, but we worked together. She moved on to another company, though. I hope to meet her again. You?"

_I wanted a place. Something like a home....but I'd hardly find it here just drifting around._

"No, not anymore," she said.

She'd had a few friends a few group ago, but they'd gotten killed off, and she hadn't gotten close to anyone else yet. She couldn't help but feel like she was at an impasse, and in-between. The people here were nice to her, and maybe, maybe, she could stay, and everything could turn into that one solidity she craved so much.

And maybe rainbows would rain down from the sky and make the sand plague go away.

"How long have you been a mercenary?" Marco asked.

"It was something I was good at. I started pretty early, it was that or some of the seedier trades. I was no good at stealing, and didn't have the patience for much else."

Marco nodded, and took a long drink out of a flask. Knowing him, it'd probably have little more than tea in it. 

She suddenly felt a burst of white light about her, and her nearly fell over in surprise. Her muscles felt far less tired, though it didn't do anything about the dirt and the sweat. She'd yet to find a spell for cleaning oneself off—if she ever did, it was sure to be popular around the mercenary set.

"There, now you won't be sore tomorrow," Marco said. He beamed at her, a bit of rice stuck to his round cheeks.

She couldn't help but smile. It wouldn't be bad to have a healer around, and he was bound to get bullied by some of the rowdier crowds if he didn't have a partner around. He always looked her in the eyes, a trait she admired in men. 

_If you don't have a home, then build one. If you don't have a family, then make one._ That's what the matron had always said.

"Do you want to team up tomorrow?" Raynie said. She leaned on her spear.

"Sure, I'd be glad to," Marco said. "In fact, I'll go put your name in the roaster right away—the matron was asking about it, and she hates to be kept waiting." Marco almost stumbled over himself as he got up, and righted his helmet.

She plucked up her spear and bag and started to leave the training grounds. 

 

*

She woke early the next day, before the sun had even come up, and stumbled to the kitchen. The matron had already put on the bitter coffee, as thick as tar, but it got the job done. Marco was already up, breakfast eaten. He didn't even look tired.

The common room was surprisingly empty. Still unswept and cluttered, with the hints of past meals the matron and the rest of the helpers hadn't cleaned yet.

"Where is everyone? Raynie said.

"They had something come up," Marco gestured vaguely. "It's just you and me for this mission."

"Hmmm, gotcha. I'll meet you out front as soon as I'm done eating."

The thought of eating with him was tempting, but she'd eaten alone so long, it'd become a habit.

*

Sand had already begun to take over the plains. Plumes of sand dunes spread out like greedy fingers, reaching for all the greenery to devour next. Raynie held tight to her spear as Marco returned with the merchant.

"G-greetings," he said.

The merchant was a nervous sort. He almost completely disappeared in his large white caftan. His fingers constantly trembled as he held up the reins of his horse, which carried the large bags fill with his wares.

"I thought there was supposed to be more of you," he said in a voice that was a mix of consternating and apologetic.

"Something came up," Raynie replied.

"That's okay, Raynie is strong enough to take on whatever comes your way," Marco said.

She looked back. She hadn't realized he had such a high opinion of her. He pushed up his helmet and smiled back at her.

"If you say so," the merchant said. His large, floppy hat shaded his dark eyes. She had a feeling he was giving her the evil eye underneath it all. Raynie clutched tight to her spear. She wasn't about to worry about a client she'd never see again. 

The plains were surprisingly quiet. They moved at a steady pace, the merchant and horse behind them. Despite being outside of the desertification zone, she could already see more hints of this land too being devoured by the sand plague. What little trees the plain had were withered and brown, with a carpet of dead leaves beneath them. 

Suddenly from the greenery, sand shot up, the grass disappearing below the hole which had suddenly appeared. She grabbed Marco's hand and pulled him back, hearing the frenzied neighing of the horse behind her. The merchant gripped at the reins, and tried to comfort the horse as it desperately bucked, spilling his wares all over the ground.

"This is a much stronger monster than the matron said would be here," Marco said.

The sand worm dove towards them, gaping maw dripping with saliva as it went straight for Marco. Raynie spun her spear, crackling with electricity and the power within her as she stepped in front of him.

The giant worm let out a groan, shuddering with the force of the spark. 

Marco lifted his hand, whispering the runic words of a spell as she felt a warmth come over her, like a cloak.

The sand worm dove into the ground. 

"Be careful, it could appear from anywhere," Raynie said. 

Another runic chant, and she felt another cloak. Magic infused her, and each step felt lighter, quicker. The moments stretched on as she waited through the silence, her spear at ready.

Suddenly, the sand worm rose again, rounding on them and targeting her this time. As it hurdled towards her, she thrust her spear up, catching it beneath the jaw. Teeth sunk into her shoulder, radiating horrible pain downwards, but she kept on, pushing the spear down the tough skin and cutting a path. Blood obscured her vision, and she couldn't tell if it was her own, or the splatter of the worm. She focused again, bringing the spark of magic through the metal spear and through the beast. Her hands trembled from the pain, but she held on tight, extending her power of the magic.

Marco raced up and began to hit at the worm with his sword. 

"Let her go!"

Black blood dripped from its mouth, mixed with her own red blood. It let go, and began to turn towards him.

"Oh—"

She shoved the spear in deeper and twisted. With one final push, she called forth a much electricity from the air as she could muster. It went through the beast, blinding white and shining. There was one last loud crack, and the worm fell to the ground, shuddering. A warm, bright light came over her as the pain began to dissipate. 

"We make a pretty good team," Marco said.

"I guess we do," she replied.

She turned to find the merchant picking up his wares.

"It's safe, for now," Marco said.

"...forgive me for underestimating you, lady," the merchant said. 

Marco laughed. "No one underestimates Raynie twice!"

Raynie just shook her head fondly. The horse had finally quieted, and it wasn't long before they were packed up again and off. After that, it was nothing so harsh, just a few wild animals, for which Raynie was thankful for. With how depleted she felt, she couldn't cast in a position like that. Before long, they were in Granorg with the safety of the city gates at their back.

Still, it tugged at the back of her mind. She had never thought much of the desertification, which was such a constant part of life as to be a given. She had never come face to face with beasts like this, or seen the dying of the land this close. Every place she'd been had either been spared, or already desert.

It uneasily weighed upon her, but this wasn't something she could simply fight away. No matter how many sand worms she took down, that wouldn't stop the spread. Like standing on the edge of a cliff and seeing all the canyon below, destruction seemed immanent and unavoidable.

"Is something bothering you?" Marco said. 

She looked down in surprise.

"You just looked troubled."

"Just...that beast. I've never come so close to the desertification before. It never felt as real as now."

"I know what you mean. I've never seen anything like it. The monsters must be getting worse. I'm glad the mercenaries around there are strong if there's beasts like that coming into the green lands."

She nodded. "The matron will want to hear about this. We'll have to hurry back after resting."

"You get the supplies, I'll book the inn," Marco said.

"Marco–" she said.

"Yes?" Marco replied, turning back towards her.

"If any of the guys mess with you, just tell me. I'll give them a talking to they won't forget."

"Everyone's been very kind to me here, though not so much other places," Marco said. "But, thank you, that's really great of you."

Just as she'd figured. Marco had the look of the sort of guy some type would love to push around.

"Hey, Raynie. Do you want to pair up next time? We work well together."

"Sure, I'd be glad to," Raynie said with the first hint of a smile.

"I'll go put our names on the roaster as soon as we get back," Marco said.

Marco waved as he started off. Raynie wasn't sure of a lot of things, but two things had been made very clear that day. The desertification was a constant and deadly threat which couldn't be avoided forever, and she'd stumbled upon a very good partner who she wasn't about to let go of anytime soon.

_If you don't have a family, make one._

_Maybe I have, Matron,_ she thought to herself.


End file.
